


Happy Birthday to You

by FernDavant



Category: Class (TV 2016)
Genre: Birthday, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, oh wow I wrote Marlie, surprise-ish party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 03:32:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11222406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FernDavant/pseuds/FernDavant
Summary: It's his first birthday since moving in with Charlie and Quill, and Matteusz is feeling out of sorts.





	Happy Birthday to You

“What’s wrong with you?” Quill asked, disdain evident in her voice. 

Matteusz did a double-take. It was true that he’d been out of sorts all week, but he’d expected (or hoped) that his boyfriend, Charlie, would be the first person to notice. He didn’t expect that Quill, of all people, would catch him moping in the kitchen, drinking coffee, with the air of one much older. 

But Charlie  _ hadn’t  _ noticed, which wasn’t too surprising really. Charlie was an alien, and an alien prince at that. He really could be quite oblivious at times. And Quill, while also an alien, was at least observant. Matteusz said, “I am upset.”

“That’s obvious,” Quill replied, pouring some coffee of her own.

Matteusz paused, offering Quill ample opportunity to get her coffee and leave, but she didn’t seem to be going anywhere. “It will be my birthday soon.”

Quill rolled her eyes. “Oh, goddess, please don’t tell me you’re worried about getting older.”

“No. Growing up is scary, in many, sometimes unexpected, ways, but is necessary, healthy process. I am not afraid of getting older. I am afraid that I will not be able to celebrate it as before. So much has changed.” Matteusz paused again, giving Quill one last get-out-of-jail-free card to use before she was fully in this conversation.

Instead, Quill nodded it him to go on. She was, evidently, invested in this conversation.

“In Poland, we all—my cousins and aunts and uncles and my babcia—we would all celebrate it together. There would be a cake and gifts and music. It was very loud, but very happy also. It was my favorite day all year. Even better than Christmas.

“Then, when I moved to London, it was quieter. Perhaps some of my cousins would come visit, but it was rare. But my mother and father, they would be there. And mother would make cake, poor imitation of babcia’s cakes, and we would play music to be loud, poor imitation of the loudness of the whole family, but then we would talk about what we remembered from other birthdays, mine and my cousins, and it was still good.

“But now…” Matteusz trailed off. “Now everything has changed again, I guess.”

Quill pursed her lips. Matteusz awaited a barbed comment that never came. Instead, Quill finally said, “That’s what life does. And not always for the better.”

The two sat, then, sipping their coffee in a companionable silence before something crossed Matteusz’s mind. “Oh! I have been very rude. You and Charlie, you must not even know when your birthday is, anymore. And days on planets, they are very different.”

Quill looked at him, vaguely bewildered. It was clear that the thought had never occurred to her and likely would never have occurred to her. “What?”

“Everyone should have a birthday. A time to celebrate one more year alive. Or, perhaps, I am being culturally insensitive?”

Quill rolled her eyes. “No, we had birthdays. To, as you put it, ‘celebrate one more year alive.’ It’s just it’s not, it’s not that important. What’s going to happen, do you think, on my birthday? Charlie will take the day off from ordering me around and treat me like a person? Or will you and the sparkly fun bunch give me a party? A cake? A pony ride?”

Matteusz was not sure how Quill knew about pony rides and did not think it warranted too close attention being paid. “Maybe not, but that does not make your birthday less special.”

“It makes it pointless,” Quill huffed. 

“Charlie will want a birthday,” Matteusz mused. 

“No doubt he will. But anything less than a parade will be a vast disappointment as a gift, I assure you,” Quill said with a sneer, downing her coffee before walking off. 

Matteusz frowned. But he had an idea.

**

“I don’t understand. The movement of the planets and the stars signify nothing more than basic gravitational principles upon which the universe is based,” Charlie said, a frown creasing his forehead, his face in a puzzled look. It was a very attractive puzzled look, if Matteusz did say so himself. “Surely you understand this, Matteusz. You are quite intelligent.”

“Is just fun,” Matteusz said with a grin, half-turning to face Quill who was looking squintily at a picture.

“What is this? A lobster?” Quill asked.

“It is crab,” Matteusz corrected.

“You can’t expect me to know all animals on Earth. It’s just not practical.”

Matteusz’s lips twitched in the faintest hint of a smile. “Sure,” he said, before turning to Charlie. “Horoscopes are things that can be fun. They help us define who we are, sometimes. It might be helpful for you to pick a birthday.”

Charlie frowned. “Which sign are you?”

“Sagittarius,” Matteusz said.

“Is that the goat-man?” Charlie asked. “I’ll just be him, then.”

“No, no, no. You are not  _ him _ , he just is symbol, yes? And you cannot be something just because I also am it. That is not how things work. Is bad for relationships. Codependency is unhealthy.”

Charlie shook his head. “I’m not understanding this. It’s worse than football.”

Matteusz shook his head and smiled at Charlie sympathetically. “I thought it would be fun, but now I see that it is only confusing.”

“And stupid,” Quill added.

“And stupid,” Matteusz agreed, but only because agreeing with Quill tended to shut her up, and Matteusz wanted Charlie’s undivided attention. “Perhaps we go about this a different way? What season was your birthday in?”

“I guess the closest analog would be summer,” Charlie replied.

“So. Late-May, June, July, August. Was it early in the summer?”

“No, it was sort of in the middle.”

“July then. Or perhaps June and Solstice. Oh dear,” Matteusz laughed. “That would make you the lobster.”

“I thought you said I didn’t have to  _ be _ the symbol!” Charlie sounded a bit panicked.

Matteusz kissed him, laughed again. “You do not! I was just joking. But let us say July. And on the same date as is today? July 24 th .”

Charlie smiled and nodded. “Alright then. July 24 th .”

Matteusz smiled. “And what about you, Miss Quill?”

Quill dropped the astrological printouts like they were on fire. “Oh, no. I’m not involved in any of these silly human—“

“Not your astrological sign, but your birthday. What season—“

“It’s not important,” Charlie interrupted. “I presume she already indicated she’s not interested in this anyway.”

“You presume correctly,” Quill said, cooly, after a beat, although Matteusz could have sworn he’d heard something that sounded suspiciously like ‘Autumn’ mumble sotto voce from Quill’s direction. 

“Suit yourself,” Matteusz shrugged, looking between the pair, not for the first time realizing how strange and tense their situation was. “But I shall plan you, Charlie, a great birthday party. Now, are we still going to the movies?”

“Yes,” Charlie said, “Let me get my things.”

“I will wait for you outside,” Matteusz replied, kissing Charlie again.

Charlie smiled as Matteusz stood up and headed out the door, then turned to Quill. “What’s all this about?”

“What’s all what about?”

“This birthday stuff. Why is he so interested in it?”

“Do you really want my opinion?”

“I wouldn’t ask for it if I didn’t want it, Quill.”

Quill rolled her eyes. “Throw him a birthday party. It’s next Friday, according to his school records. Throw him one, and maybe he’ll stop harassing us about the relative importance of the years we’ve been stuck on the orbit of various rocks.”

Charlie appeared to consider this for a moment, then nodded. “Alright. I shall ask April about the protocol.”

Charlie got up, presumably to go get his things, and after a moment, he too went out the door.

**

“So, like, a surprise party?” April said.

“I suppose,” Charlie said. “Is that customary?”

“I mean, if you’re trying to cheer him up because he’s sad about birthdays, that might do the trick. Unless he’s sad because he doesn’t like birthdays. In which case, the whole thing would backfire and end very badly. Oh. Oh no.”

“Quill thinks it’s a good idea.”

“Quill? Quill wants you to throw Matteusz a surprise party? Are you serious?”

“Why would I lie to you?” Charlie asked, genuinely puzzled.

April was about to say  _ for comedic effect _ , but she realized that Charlie had probably  _ never  _ done anything for comedic effect. “I guess you wouldn’t. But are we sure she’s not doing it just to like, make fun of Matteusz.”

“No, but Matteusz has been talking a lot about birthdays lately, and he’s never mentioned disliking them. Actually, I get the feeling he  _ quite  _ likes them.”

April nodded. “Okay, then. I guess we should. So, how do you think we should go about this?”

“Ah, that’s why I came to you. My birthdays were probably…not the average. For example, there tended to be parades and a national holiday.”

“Oh jeez,” April said. “I keep forgetting you’re like, seriously, for real, a prince.”

“I don’t,” Charlie said, rather melancholy.

April patted him on the arm and gave him her most sympathetic smile—a smile that was quite sympathetic indeed. “How about I offer up some options and you say if he’d like it.”

Charlie nodded. “That seems like something I could do.”

**

It wasn’t exactly a surprise party. A surprise party requires that your boyfriend not act incredibly suspiciously or talk in an impossibly circuitous manner in order to avoid telling you lies. For seirous matters, Charlie could be quite the liar. But, apparently, for birthdays, he had a horrible poker face. 

It wasn’t a surprise party, but the evident work and care that had been put into the party was enough to cheer Matteusz. 

His new family was there, every weird one of them, as well as the man he loved, and he couldn’t stop smiling. It was loud and full of music (that Ram, and only Ram seemed to like, but whatever) and April had baked a cake. Ram had bought a football jersey for his team (Tottenham), April had made him a necklace out of braided rope, Tanya had bought him the latest  _ Call of Duty _ , and even Quill had gotten him something. It was a knife, admittedly (“If anyone tries to stop you from making it through one more year, this will help.”), but Matteusz was not nearly as uncomfortable with blades as Charlie (he merely hated guns). 

And finally,  _ finally  _ was Charlie’s gift. 

It was a photo album, with high quality prints, from Matteusz’s phone, and Facebook page, and—how?—pictures he knew were only existed in his parents’ house, of him and his cousins and aunts and uncles and babcia.

“I stole them,” Quill helpfully offered, seemingly reading Matteusz’s mind. 

“And April helped me gather up all the rest,” Charlie said, squeezing Matteusz’s hands. “Are you alright?”

Matteusz wasn’t, in fact, alright. He was crying. But he was also, in a way, better than alright. 

“Thank you,” he said, very softly.

“Happy birthday,” Charlie said.

And it  _ was  _ a very happy one. 


End file.
